


Encounter

by moodiful819



Series: "Kakashi in Glasses" [4]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Bedrooms, F/M, Glasses, Humor, Romance, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 10:24:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodiful819/pseuds/moodiful819
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If this was some higher power's idea of a blessing, it had a sick sense of humor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Encounter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [serenitytouched](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenitytouched/gifts).



> Start of the second arc of serenity-touched's gift. Also dedicated to dimisfit.

"You did what to her?!"

At Naruto's loud exclamation, Kakashi frowned into the beer he was nursing. The table next to them peered around the edge of their booth curiously, and Kakashi let a disarming smile paint his lips before pulling back into a frown at the blonde's—frankly unnecessary—high volume. He had brought them together in hopes of discovering the root for Sakura's recent odd behavior, but as he stared at the myriad of shocked, confused, and hopelessly ambivalent faces before him, he found himself regretting his choice.

"I didn't do anything. She kissed me," Kakashi explained absently as he rubbed at his forming migraine, though he figured that it was to be a given. Briefly, in the back of his head, he wondered why he had thought coming to Team 7 about this had ever been a good idea. The only silver lining was that the member in question was not here and Tenzou had been called away on a mission a few days before. It was probably a terrible thing to think about Yamato, but Kakashi had the sneaking suspicion that the Mokuton user would either have kept nervously tight-lipped and floated an awkward tension around him when the team was gathered, or he would pester him relentlessly like a nosy aunt. With his luck, it was probably a combination of both.

His head sank dejectedly for a second, his sigh rippling the amber liquid in his glass. Raising his head up, he found Naruto recovered, the boy's face hovering eagerly near his.

"So…" he leaned in conspiringly,  _"…was there tongue?"_

"Naruto, I hardly think that's appropriate to ask—"

"Oh my god, there  _was_  tongue!" he gushed, sounding too close to those teenage girls Kakashi saw from time to time in movies. His forehead met his hand in exasperation, and he braced for the barrage of questions soon to come from his curious blonde gossipy harpy of a student.

"I knew this was a bad idea," he mumbled to himself tiredly. "Naruto, forget the tongue. I asked you guys to meet me because I'm worried about Sakura. She's not acting like she normally does, and I'm worried that something might be the matter with her and—"

"She likes you."

The silver-haired nin paused mid-sentence and stared incredulously at the speaker. "What?"

At his teacher's gaze, Sasuke gave a careless shrug and sipped his beer. "She likes you. It's obvious," he repeated mildly before shifting his gaze to the side once more.

Beside him, Sai gave a crisp nod. "I agree with the traitor. One of my acquaintances was a proctor for the bar exam and he asked me if the hag was okay because she kept crossing out things on her paper. Apparently, she admires your ass a lot, and your glasses," he replied glibly.

Kakashi sat back in his seat, mulling over the information. He had noticed Sakura's distractedness during their study sessions, but he had thought the cause was just stress from her upcoming exam. He would've never attributed to himself to the cause, and even now, there was still a vague disbelief. He couldn't believe it was true; Sakura couldn't like him.

But what if she did?

This was the thought on his mind on the relatively-short walk home. Hands in his pocket, the question stewed with each step. After all, she wasn't a little girl anymore, and at twenty years old, the pink-haired medic had developed into a strong, smart, highly-capable kunoichi. She had become someone who he was proud to call a comrade.

But just because he'd seen her grow up, it didn't mean he had actually  _seen_  her grow up. For the past eight years of her life, Kakashi had viewed her as someone without gender, and any comments he made about her growth were akin to the quaint encouraging admirations he gave his potted plant as he watched it mature. Even when the last echoes of puberty were settling into her form, he had observed the formations of her curves with as absent a notice as when Mr. Ukki's leaves began to fan wide under the sun. She may have grown into a woman, but he was more concerned about her growth as a person than a member of the opposite sex.

So suppose he did decide to view her as a woman? It wouldn't be that difficult a leap given the fact that she was legal—if anything, he owed it to her to acknowledge that aspect of her—and it wasn't as if he was completely adverse to the idea. She was, objectively speaking, attractive, and he knew many around him considered her quite a catch. He would be quite lucky if it turned out she was attracted to him, but only if. This could have been another elaborate hare-brained scheme of his team's, after all.

He shrugged to himself at his door. He supposed he would find out the answer when he asked her. After all, who better to ask than the source?

And if it did turn out that his pink-haired student had a crush on him, then maybe he would be moved to some sort of action.

After all, stranger things have happened.

* * *

With a groan and a thud, Sakura collapsed face-first into her mattress. It was afternoon, early afternoon. On the other side of the village, Academy children were still training for careers as ninja; it was too early to be contemplating sleep, a small part of her reasoned, not while kids were still running around and the sun was still out.

However, a larger part of her could not care less. After two days of back-to-back shifts at the hospital and short, jerky bouts of sleep on uncomfortable hospital cots in the break room, this was the perfect time to sleep as far as she was concerned. The only silver-lining to the sudden increase of back-breaking toil she had been subjected to was that the cause in her sudden increase in demand was because of her recent promotion in rank.

That's right. Despite constant distraction, losing sleep, repeatedly writing about hot asses on her essay, and becoming a hot mess in general, Sakura had managed to pass her exams; and after days of hard work, she planned on celebrating the best way she knew how: face-first in a puddle of her own drool as she took in a well-deserved rest. She hadn't even bothered changing out of her nursing uniform. There hadn't been time anyway, not when she felt the warm embrace of her sheets pulling her under…

At least, until she felt a breeze roll in from the window she distinctly remembered being closed. Her hand sought the kunai she kept beneath her pillow. Metal clutched tightly in her fist, she spun to meet her intruder and found herself staring at the masked figure of her teacher as he leaned on her vanity.

"Yo," he greeted, and if it wasn't for the fact that Sakura had a knife in her hand, she would've slapped her hands to her face. Kami, did no one know about doors or doorbells anymore?

"You better have a good reason for being here," she grumbled sluggishly, her mind already ticking away at the minutes of her life that would be spent resetting the traps on her window as she set the kunai down. Inwardly, she regretted not spending the extra money for exploding tags on her balcony.

"In a way. I've been looking for you for days. You're a hard person to find," he commented idly as he closed the colorful novel in his hands, this time green.

"I've been busy," she retorted snappishly, sweeping the loose strands of her hair from her face with an aggravated pout. Was this going to take long? Because she had things to do, important things to do like drown her face in her pillows.

Palms flat on her vanity, Kakashi crossed his feet and reclined with the lazy superiority of a cat. Pocketing his reading glasses, he decided to cut straight to the chase. "I heard you liked me."

Catching onto his words, Sakura snapped her mournful gaze from his chest pocket to stare at his face, flabbergasted.

"Pfft. What?  _No!"_  she dismissed, a bit more loudly than necessary as her hand inched its way back towards the kunai. The phrase "Death before dishonor" came to mind. "Me like—w-whatever gave you that idea?"

"Besides the fact you tried to shove your tongue into my mouth in your sleep? I heard you were repeatedly worshipping my backside in your medical essay. My glasses too. Am I really that attractive with my glasses on?"

"I crossed those out! Those proctors were supposed to ignore it!" she argued, only belatedly realizing her mistake as a smirk met her eyes. He advanced.

"So you do admit it then?" he asked with amused curiosity.

Sakura weakly held her arms out in a gesture to stop him.

"L-listen, we can just forget it ever happened. I mean, I was tired and I didn't know it was you in the library, and looking back, it was stupid to begin with. Just a stupid little crush really—I'll get over it in no time— _and really, what are a few sexual fantasies between friends, right?_  Besides, it's not like you'd ever like me back because that'd be silly. As silly as this conversation," she dismissed, scooting back against her headboard to keep a safe distance between them. Of course, it didn't seem like he got the memo as he continued to creep over her bed, much like another fantasy she'd had that involved a rope and a blindfold and an ice cube or two. Looking over his shoulder, she got an eyeful of that wonderfully sculpted ass of his in the mirror.

"I'm not so sure," he replied languidly. "I'd be up to try it if you were."

Sakura blinked her eyes disbelievingly, tearing her eyes away from the glass so quickly she swore she heard her optic nerves snap back into place. "What?" she breathed as his face hovered just over hers and his fingers sought out the pulse points of her wrists in the sheets.

"I'm not that adverse to the idea. I'd be willing to give us a shot," he admitted casually with a shrug of his shoulder, like he had just decided between chocolate and vanilla ice cream rather than accepting her embarrassing crush on him and indirectly asking her out in her bed after weeks of dirty daydreaming and a grueling stint at work that left her gross and delirious and un-showered and not at all ready for this kind of confession.

She stared up at him in disbelief. Surely, this was some kind of big cosmic joke.

But his hands were still gently grasping her wrists, tracing idle, amused patterns in her skin. No doubt, he'd felt the erratic heartbeat signaling her panic, but if he noticed, he didn't say anything, which of course made her panic even more because this couldn't be real. This wasn't happening because this was too good, too humiliating— _too mortifying_  to be true. It couldn't be real.

But his hands continued to linger near hers, and a corner of his mouth had been lifted reassuringly. This was indeed real, it seemed to say. She would be getting what she wanted.

Then, to make matters worse, he asked, "So just out of curiosity, what were some of your fantasies of me?"

Sakura didn't know whether to cry or punch him in the face.


End file.
